Beverly knocked her down the steps. She had to. Couldn’t stand all day, she said. She had surgery on her back, but it just got worse.”
“Did Vera have a boyfriend?” Gretchen asked.
“No, she never did. Beverly used to tell her she needed to get laid and she should get a boyfriend and then Vera would say no man would have her because she had a rotten teenage daughter.”
Again, Josie felt a stab of sympathy for Beverly even though she hadn’t been able to muster any when they were in school together. Then again, Josie had had no idea what Beverly’s home life was like back then.
Josie said, “Just one last question, Kelly. Did Beverly ever mention anything to you about being pregnant?”
Her eyes widened. “No. Never. You think she was pregnant?”
“We really can’t discuss it,” Gretchen said. “How about any friends of either Beverly’s or Vera’s named Alice? Do you remember anyone named Alice?”
Kelly shook her head. “No. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
Josie asked, “When is the last time you spoke with Lana Rosetti?”
“Not since high school,” Kelly answered.
Gretchen handed Kelly a business card. “You’ve been very helpful. Call us if you remember anything else.”
Eighteen
2004
The air was abuzz with energy and excitement. People milled around the outside of the baseball field. The bleachers were already full. Some Denton residents had brought their own folding chairs and set them down wherever they could find a place. The sun had begun to sag, but the heat and humidity hadn’t let up. Josie held her long black hair off her neck for a moment, reveling in the feel of the air on her nape. She waited at the chain-link fence along the first-base line where Denton East players’ friends and families gathered before the start of each game to wish the players luck. Bodies pressed in behind her, but she held firm. Lisette was standing in the long concession line.
A roar went up from the crowd as the players ran onto the field. Josie knew Ray immediately from his loping run. He turned his head and winked at her before taking his place on the mound. He and the catcher warmed up while the other players ran around the field and threw balls back and forth, getting ready for the championship game. Josie let her hair down and put her hands over the top of the fence. A film of sweat covered her bare arms and legs. Around her, people shouted encouragement to the players. Several minutes later, the team broke to let their opponents come out and warm up. Tapping his glove against his leg, Ray sauntered over to Josie. He looked the picture of confidence, but she could tell by the way his eyes shifted all around that he was nervous.
She leaned in for a kiss when he reached the fence. “Don’t be nervous,” she told him. “You’re going to do great.”
He tucked his glove under his armpit and used one hand to smooth her hair out of her face. “You think so, Jo?”
Josie grinned. “I know so. This is going to be your best game. Wait and see.”
“I hope you’re right.”
They kissed again until someone nearby hollered, “Get a room!” Then the coach came onto the field with a group of men dressed business-casual in collared shirts and trousers and called for the team. Ray looked over his shoulder. “Shit,” he said. “I gotta go. We gotta take pictures with the sponsors before the game starts.”
Josie reached up and straightened his ball cap. “I’d wish you luck, but you won’t need it. See you after.”
She watched him jog off, her heart stuttering in her chest. God, she hoped they won. Ray had been enjoying the baseball season so much, it had lifted him out of the depression he sometimes fell into. He’d worked hard, too, and she hoped she was right about all that hard work paying off. At home plate, the team lined up and knelt with the coach and four local businessmen standing behind them. Josie recognized the founder of their local coffee shop, Komorrah’s Koffee, with his wispy white hair and stooped shoulders. Josie had heard he would retire soon and turn the business over to his daughter. Then there was the owner of the pizza shop just outside the university campus. Josie put him in his fifties. He had greasy blond hair and a moustache that looked as though it was struggling to grow in. He looked as though he ate as many pizzas as he sold.